


How it all began

by Kagehana_Tsukio



Series: Shinsengumi!Gintoki [1]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagehana_Tsukio/pseuds/Kagehana_Tsukio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU verse where after Gintoki leaves the war, he ends up joining the Shinsengumi. </p><p>This is just how it all started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it all began

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama. It is the rightful property of creator and author Hideachi Sorachi

It was a barren wasteland all around him, except for a sole spot in the far distance, indicating a small town.

He slowly tread his way forward, walking down the worn and beaten path, the familiar yet so different landscape causing unbidden memories to rise in his head.

It was slowly getting more and more vivid with every step he took. The ringing of blades clashing against each other – _a non-stop symphony of steel against steel –_ the bullets fired across the battlefield, the blade slicing through flesh – he could hear it even now. The coppery smell and taste of blood flooded his senses, and the glint of red – _bloodbloodbloodsomuchblooditwillnevercomeout –_ steel flashing through his mind, overlapping with the landscape in front of him.

He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the images and memories clouding his thoughts.

It was the past. For him, the war was over. He was tired of watching friends – _there were so few of his fellow students from the time with Sensei left_ – and comrades falling when the whole endeavor was starting to lose hope anyway. The thrice-damned Bakufu had already given in anyhow, betraying not only the country, but also every single person who had sacrificed themselves with the hope of saving Edo from those damned Amanto.

He had left the battlefield behind him, allowing only a few emotions to linger in his heart from that time.

Anger at Shinsuke – _“Purple-haired bastard!” “Perm headed idiot!”_ – because he knew that it was the Kiheitai leader’s fault that he couldn’t convince Zura to leave with him, and irritation at Katsura because that too-big-hearted-for-his-own-good idiot wouldn’t leave with him (and he knew that no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was Bakasugi’s fault he knew that Zura would never abandon his fellow Jouishishi members). But most of all, he felt guilt. Guilt that he **_had_** abandoned his comrades – _people who he had fought alongside and shed blood for –_ in the war, coupled with the fact that he knew that without him, the ‘Shiroyasha’, the war effort on the Jouishishi’s side would be drastically more difficult, and a greater amount of lives would be lost.

And even more heavily weighing on his mind than this knowledge, was his promise. The last promise that he made to Shouyou-sensei as he watched the first and most precious person in his life get taken away, when he had sworn to protect their comrades, their friends, **_everyone_** _–_ but _especially_ the two idiots he had grown up with, Zura and Bakasugi. He had sworn this, but he couldn’t keep his promise. As he walked away from the bloody carnage-filled battlefield, he made a new promise, a newfound resolve burning in his bright red eyes.

‘ _I’m sorry Shouyou-sensei... I couldn’t protect everyone… but I swear on my pride… on my bushido… that I will protect this country that you loved so much, and those two idiots too in my own way!’_

* * *

After he left the war, he didn’t know what to do. After all, the only thing that he had known all his life was the battlefield before he met Shouyou-sensei, and consequently Zura and Shinsuke. That had been the best period of his life, before everything had been shot to hell, and those  _bastards_ took Sensei away, reawakening the ‘demon’ inside of him and causing the battlefield to appear before him once again.

So, he had ended up wandering with no specific destination in mind, becoming a lone swordsman with nothing but a legendary name to him that everyone was beginning to think was a myth, trying to protect what little that was left of what he held dear.

Slowly, word started to spread through the smaller and more rural villages. Word of the man with bright silver hair and haunted, blood red eyes – _eyes that had a smoldering fire in them,_ some said, _fitting of the place that demons called home –_ that came and went through their villages. He would stop the wilder Amanto and protecting the people, never asking for anything in return, aside from the occasional request for food (and oddly enough sweets). Word of the swordsman who seemed to contradict his own very being: saying that he no longer had anything left to protect, yet still protecting them; saying that he would not help them again before leaving, but still always coming back to stop the troublemakers, including the Amanto that everyone else were too afraid of,  from doing too much.

Soon enough, there were rumors all across the smaller towns of the country, even reaching the ears of two certain members of the Jouishishi who only shook their heads at what they heard – one in exasperation the other in anger and aggravation. Stories of the lone swordsman – who vehemently denied at being a ronin even thought that _was_ what he was – clothed in white who kids adored and the elderly were fond of, who protected, who never stayed. The one who just kept on always moving, never letting himself stay and linger, like a phantom or a ghost, always just out of reach, something only to be seen or admired.

But soon, even that would come to an end. The legend falling something of memories _– but still never forgotten even if only in whispers -_ , but the man himself was finally stepping out of the shadows of his past and into the light of the present…

* * *

It was turning out to be a nice day – weather wise. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, clouds lazily drifting alongside it, always changing into random shapes in the sky, or becoming mere wisps on the wind, formless and spread out.

Gintoki ran a hand through his wavy silver hair, before scratching the back of his head, the other hand resting near the hilt of his blade, as he walked down the main street of the small country village – _Bushuu or something?_ – that he was in at the moment. His dark red eyes (that people always claimed to look like dead fish eyes for some reason) roamed over the sides of the street towards the alleys, searching for the reason of the slight unease that he could feel crawling inside of him, slowly getting bigger by the second.

It had suddenly appeared a few minutes ago. A growing anxiety in his gut that told him that something bad was going to happen soon, that is, if he didn’t stop it. And after all these years, if Gintoki had learned something, it was to trust his instincts.

Walking by another side alley, he subtly glanced into the darkness, eyes adjusting within seconds, before coming to an abrupt stop at what he saw.

An intense rage started to come over him. This was…how dare they! These **monsters**! Gintoki didn’t realize it but his visage had changed as he took a single step forward. A haze of red was threatening to overcome his senses.

_“Heh. And just what the hell were you saying Kid?”_

And then he was gone.

* * *

The young boy tried his best to glare daggers at the pair of Amanto that were twisting his arm behind his back and pressing him against the wall of one of the buildings forming the alley.

He thought back to just what had caused this situation.

_ Flashback _

_He was walking down the streets of the town when he heard them talking over the sudden hush._

_“Wow these humans are such losers! They’re so weak it’s pathetic! Haha how have those stupid ‘samurai’ even lasted this long? Well, it won’t be much longer anyway, they’re all going to die in the end.”_

_He stopped walking._

_There were murmurs of indignation throughout the crowd around them in the street, but no one spoke out due to fear of what the physically stronger aliens would do to them._

_“You’re the stupid ones.”_

_The statement rang out in the silence that followed, though people took note of the high pitched voice that said it._

_The two Amanto froze in disbelief that someone **dared** to actually stand up to them. _

_Finally one of them – he was a bear-like Amanto in terms of resemblance in his face – questioned the crowd._

_“Who? Who dares to say that to us? Which one of you pathetic, puny humans-“_

_The same child’s voice as before cut him off with a drawling statement, “Ehh, are you blind now, in addition to being stupid? It was me you dumbass.”_

_The crowd parted a little, though some others tried to push forward to help hide the child from sight, as a child of maybe around eight years of age stepped forward, red eyes uncaring as he stared down the two aliens almost more than three times his size._

_The other Amanto, who looked like a lizard, snorted. “Just who do you think you are you little brat?”_

_The boy stared unrepentantly back. “I think I’m a little brat who’s smarter than a lizard.”_

_ Flashback End _

The next thing anyone knew, the two Amanto had grabbed him and strode down the street, before turning into one of the numerous back alleys in the town, leaving any of the members who had been in the small crowd on that street totally helpless to do anything to help him.

So now he was backed into the dirty alley wall face first, with his arm twisted into a grip leaving him at an awkward angle to attempt a take down on the aliens behind him.

“And just what the hell were you saying before? I thought you were smarter ‘than a lizard’? I’m not stupid, if you’re so much smarter than one, why don’t you try getting yourself out of this simple ho-“

The lizard Amanto was cut off by a pained choke coming out of his own throat, as he crumpled to the ground from the strike that had hit him in the side of his leg.

The boy quickly ran to the other side of the alley and closer to the entrance while the bear-face was still in shock at what had happened to his partner, before turning to see just what had happened that allowed him to escape.

He stared at what he saw before him, not quite sure if he was seeing things, or if it was real.

But it was, and he realized – him, Okita Sougo, was witnessing the rumored travelling ronin for himself, the famed phantom swordsman with the white hair and blood red eyes (like his own he noted), the man who people in villages like his talked about with fondness as they told stories of how he played with the kids, but protected them against the Amanto fiercely, like a demon. And really, he was glad. Now he knew that these stupid Amanto would get what they deserved.

* * *

All three in the alley stared at the figure that had appeared out of nowhere to strike at the Lizardmanto.

Gintoki’s red eyes shone malevolently in the dim light of the alley, his still sheathed blade at his side, but his body strategically placed between where Okita now stood, and the two Amanto were in the alley.

Bear-face began to say something as he dropped his hand to his side where he kept his gun, something along the lines of ‘who do you think you are’, before he was cut off by a small click, as Gintoki began to unsheathe his blade.

Red eyes narrowed threateningly as he took a single step forward, the low sound of the scrape of a blade against a sheathe accompanying his next statement.

“Just _what_ , did you think you were doing?

Both the Amanto gulped in trepidation, before they seemed to get a hold of themselves and slowly started to get angry instead.

Who did this pathetic human think he was? They were Amanto! He was fundamentally weaker than them, they had no reason to be scared.

This was a stupid decision that they would only wish that they could live to regret later.

Lizardmanto rose to his feet, finally shaking off the last feelings of pain from the initial strike, before hissing at Bearmanto to hurry and take out his gun, before saying to Gintoki what would likely be his last words ever.

“Stupid human, we’ll do whatever we want!” he haughtily took out his own sword to point at the former-samurai. “I’d just like to see you try and stop us!”

Bearmanto aimed his gun, all he saw was a flash of silver, and then a spray of red as his hand flew in the air, landing still twitching on the floor of the alley as he himself collapsed from a strike to the base of his neck.

Lizardmanto lasted a little longer, if only just because of the quality of the blade he owned. After his partner’s hand landed on the floor, he sliced downwards at the silver head of hair, only to be parried aside by Gintoki’s blade. Regaining his balance, there was a short flurry of motion, as the two exchanged strike after strike.

Thrust. Parry. Sweep, Overhead block! Duck down. Swipe. Parry.

But no matter how much Lizardmanto liked to fancy himself a good swordsman, in the face of someone like Sakata Gintoki, he was most definitely no match, so it was no surprise that a few moments later he was backed against the wall, sword falling in a clatter to the floor.

His green, slightly scaly neck was pared taut as he leaned his head back, Gintoki`s blade pressed against his skin, causing a few drops of blood to well to the surface. Red eyes burned with fury at the actions the Amanto had done against a mere child, and his blood sang to take the life of this stupid excuse for a living being.

Gintoki focused on getting his breathing back under control as he started to cool down his emotions.

“-ease, please please please please.” 

The lizard Amanto was letting out a litany of pleads to spare his life and that he would never do anything like this again, stammering about how he would leave Edo and go back to his home planet just please don’t kill him.

Gintoki lifted his sword back, and let the back of his blade rest against his shoulder as he stared down at the now collapsed alien with disgust and almost but not-quite-hatred in his gaze.

“Leave. Just leave.” Gintoki spat furiously, “Take your friend, and never come back. Do anything like this again, and I find out – I’ll finish what I started today. Never forget this.”  

The most frightening part to this that the Amanto would never forget was the tone that the former-samurai had used when saying this. He wasn’t just giving him a threat, it was more than that. There was most definitely anger in his voice, but it wasn’t said in a rush of shout and fury, it was delivered with cold, calm, deliberation, and the promise that he would back it up if it did happen in the future, and that was the worst of it all. Because he had left no doubt, no doubt at all that he could make it happen, no matter where the Amanto tried to escape.

The lizard Amanto quickly nodded his agreement, before wrapping his friend’s arm around his shoulder to help lift him out, and ran out of the alley, and town, as fast as he could.

Finally, Gintoki turned around to the entrance of the alley where he knew the boy he had saved still stood watching him, and walked up to him.

Red eyes met red eyes.

* * *

The two stared at each other, the older not quite sure what to say to the younger, the boy just staring up at the other.

.

.

.

“…do you think you could teach me how to fight like that?”

Gintoki blinked, not quite sure if he was hearing things for a moment.

“Eh? You want me to teach you?”

Okita stared up at the swordsman who had just probably saved his life.

“Yeah. So can you?”

Gintoki scratched his head for a moment, thinking about it, before shrugging.

“Meh. Ask your parents or whoever’s taking care of you first, then we’ll talk.”

He offered his hand to the kid as they both turned to exit the alley.

“You want me to bring you home in case those bastards try to come back anyway?”

Okita stared at the hand in front of him, before shrugging and taking it and accepting the offer as it was.

“Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave any comments :)


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